August 27, 2019

burnt ends
for the Jones sisters

You will have to get off the highway. You will have to slog through a lumpy stretch 
where the street has slid into disrepair, where the parking lots have abandoned 
their frenzy of commerce, where the view has thinned and paled like a ghost. You will
have to lean into your basest instincts - hunger, hope - to light your way, to let 
whatever warm glow they might cast catch the pavement. You will have to hold 
your gaze to what you can’t see yet. You will have to erase from your mind 
the signs you thought would be there. You will have to ask for what you really want. 
You will have to sit at an empty chipped table and wait. You will have to know 
the difference between meat and bone. You will have to use your hands, 
and when you do, the sweet, peppery stain of your work will follow you everywhere.